007 Things That Never Happened to James Bond
by telegramsam
Summary: A collection of drabbles. Does what it says on the tin. Casino Royale based.


007 Things That Never Happened to James Bond

I. Bliss

"_I love you, James_" How sweet those words were, still lingering in his ears. It had been such a tense moment, trying to tease life back into her cold treacherous body, this little Judas lying in his arms. He could forgive her, though, because he had to. Because if he couldn't, he knew he'd never be able to let another into his heart. M had taken the news of his resignation about how he'd expect her to – with a pinched look on her face and a dismissive nod. The Evil Queen of Numbers bid him farewell without ceremony and forgot him completely the moment he stepped out of the door.

II. Fatherhood

James stared at the small creature standing at his feet, and it stared back at him, silently demanding to be acknowledged. The social worker had showed up that morning, banging on his door at 8 a.m. with a three year old in tow. He didn't remember the woman's name, or when he'd slept with her, but she'd apparently remembered him well enough to put his name down on the birth certificate before getting herself killed in a traffic accident. How utterly inconvenient. A high piercing wail suddenly broke through his mental ruminations and brought him back to the present. Oh lord, the brat was crying now. James bent down and picked the child up.

III. Enemy

He'd survived, somehow, with nary but a thin white scar above his ever-bleeding vulture's-eye, and had wasted no time tracking down the one he blamed for his misfortune. They'd lost their guns somewhere in the fight and amidst scuffling on the floor with this blond hulk of an assassin, the rage in his veins changed shape, unbidden, morphing into a burning sensation of a wholly different nature. Pinned to the floor under the larger man, he reached forward and kissed the thin tight lips above him. James Bond must have located one of the guns, though, and another burning sensation tore through his heart as clear blue eyes bid him farewell.

IV. Misfortune

They'd been chasing him for miles now, first through city streets and now through the country, winding over and around hills, nothing but flimsy guardrails between him and steep cliffs dropping off into ocean. Two of his pursuers had already met their fates in the water but the third would not let off the chase. He was putting distance between them though, his superior vehicle and driving skills buying him seconds and distance on the treacherous roads. Suddenly the car began to lose speed, though, the gears shuddering as the engine suddenly lost power. Just before the other car caught up to him, he glanced down at his sealed fate. The needle pointed damningly at Empty.

V. Friendship

She stood silently beside the fresh grave, staring blankly at the physical fact she could not quite grasp as the chairs and tent were cleared up and the guests drove off into the ether. Her husband of 40 years was gone, suddenly. She did not notice it, then, when a familiar dark presence materialized by her side. He slipped her hand into his, grasping it tightly and forgetting, for a moment, their constant battles and arguments. "James-" She wasn't sure what she'd been planning on saying, but it died on her lips as he pulled her into a tight embrace. It was funny how whenever she finally thought she'd figured him out, he'd go and surprise her with something like this.

VI. Experiment

What a strange creature this was! It had almost nothing covering its body, save a bit of yellowish fur on its head and a piece of artificial material about its posterior. The scientist turned the scared animal over and over in its claws, prodding here and there to see how it would react. It calmly took tissue and bodily fluid samples, all the while ignoring the indignant sounds emanating from an orifice on what he assumed was a misplaced head. Afterward, he handed the specimen back over to the technicians to be returned to its natural environment. Back home, James swore an oath never to mention this to anyone. Nobody would believe him anyway. Hell, M would probably have him committed on the spot.

VII. The End

It was a strange sensation, really. He knew he'd been shot, several times in fact, and there had been pain at first, then paramedics whisking him off in a helicopter to a hospital somewhere, noise and light and pain surrounding him. Now though, the pain was gone and the lights were dim and the sound muffled. He could see himself lying on a table, a team of surgeons struggling to restart his heart. He could return, if he wanted to. Return to the ever-running, fighting, sneaking, fucking, deceiving, killing. He had a chance, right now, if he should choose it, to keep going. This wasn't the first time he'd been faced with this choice. He always chose to return. Now though he turned his gaze upward instead, into the endless stars and beyond, the universe folding up like a drying leaf behind him.


End file.
